Thursday, November 3, 2011

Carménère...Now What

Oops Carm
'Arma-dilla, Li-barry, Mer-Lot, Carmen-ner-ee’...do you notice a pattern here? Perhaps you know of these common mispronunciations, but the last word has the overburden of being verbally misshapen. Like the countless boasts of an Oil-Baron’s “Yee-Haws! and the presence of an “Aww-Shucks,” every so often, popular references to this Chilean cashcrop include:  “Carum-nere, Carmen-i-niare, or, “You know! That red wine beginning with C and ending with an E !” Although I have a short command of the French language, my difficulty with it, stems from not having enough time to learn the proper inflections within the “Accent Aigu,” or the “Accent Grave.” I’m told, it's practically mandatory in order to speak the name of many Francophone grapes...including this one. So much of the trouble with this crimson dynamo has nothing to do with proper diction, but recognizing its presence in the marketplace and seeing it as more than a disposable, cheap wine best suited for your latter period lunch-breaks.              
                 
Yes, the berries need a little more heat to ripen, a little more attention due to a high content of “Methoxypyrazine,” which may translate to a higher level of vegetative notes. Remanding it to a useful cooking wine is not the answer though, given the “grassy” notes you can expect, are usually backed-up by high concentrations of juiciness and overall fruit content. My cause for concern, is the threat of Carménère losing its diacriticals when people liken the grape to Merlot. Studies have shown that, if anything, the DNA match-up exists around the parental Cabernet Franc and the extinct strain of “Gros Cabernet” that resided in Bordeaux for some time. Trying to understand varietal differences, it’s difficult to see the gobs of red fruits found in the ‘Big M‘ and all the dessert spices that entail. 

Andina Rsv Carm
Cab is, in fact, a more genial comparison, given all those toasty, savory, vanillin-rich notes found within. Call it “Grand Vidure” and there’s no element of surprise there, considering that it practically means “Big Cabernet.” Oenologists and wine dorks may tell you, its tertiary name, “Biturica” had the Romans using the word to refer back to the Bordelaise...which leaves me guessing. I think there’s more to it than the extents of what South America has been doing with Carm; but really, the producers deserve some much-needed attention. Think “Chili” and not “Chile,” because there’s a great deal of hot, roasted red pepper to partake in when you look at something other than fruit nuance. Smokiness is also optional, with darker, more voluminous notes of blackberries, currants and yes, even  woodland mushrooms appearing. I’ll leave you to search the verdure of your mind to figure out if It’s Terra Andina RSV, or another one that’s a little more casual in its assessment of the word “Oops !”  
There is too much to be savored here, but still, there are only shades of interest. Despite the unfortunate mispronunciations, misguidance and overall threats from old phylloxera louses and a lackluster market, it continues to baffle seasoned, if not well-experienced palettes. I would say something about the endearing quality of its typical, medium-bodied structure, but beyond the morale of an almost old-world style, with new-world aspirations for it, this wine deserves more than just a taste. Juxtaposing it with Merlot or Cabernet won’t do, because its only the growing patterns that appear similar, not the flavour. Give it time, give it concern and you’ll notice there’s more than just punctuations to be had. 
Accents will also suffice you....
Brian Maniotis
Westchester Wine Warehouse
Visit Us @: westchesterwine.com 

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